


Stress Reaction

by Sadbhyl



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-11
Updated: 2010-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:52:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John always gets a rush after a case.  What he never realized was that he’s not the only one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> Minor spoilers for Blind Banker.

Sarah was shaking as John helped her into the cab.  He couldn’t blame her.  The first time John had almost gotten shot, he’d thrown up behind a bush afterwards.  It’s never in the moment.  In the moment you fight back or run, scream defiance or piss yourself.  It’s only when you stop and think about it that the nausea sets in.  He pulled her into his embrace, and she seemed happy to be there, curling into his chest, her fingers clutching at his jacket.  
   
A moment later, Sherlock slid in on the other side of her.  “Alexander Court,” he instructed the driver, giving Sarah’s address, then folded his coat around himself, his gaze only brushing over John and Sarah beside him.  Not disgust.  To John it seemed almost like respect, giving Sarah a bit of privacy in her moment of weakness.  
   
“It’s all set with Dimmock, then?”  John kept it casual, directing his attention to Sherlock instead of Sarah, giving her comfort and solitude at the same time.  
   
Sherlock nodded, watching the road ahead.  “He won’t say anything of our involvement.  Lestrade will know, of course, but that hardly matters.  
   
John rubbed Sarah’s shoulder.  “There, you see?  No police reports, no reporters.  It’s over.”  
   
“This time.”  
   
He glanced at Sherlock, who met his eyes.  They both knew she was right.  It was always this time.  The next time…  
   
She sat up, wiping her cheeks, making John realize to his shame that she had been crying and he hadn’t even known.  She’d been the same in the tramway, terrified but stoic.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t know how you do it.  Risk getting shot or strangled or God knows what else.  I’d be a wreck.”  
   
John took her hand, rubbing the fine bones of it under his thumb.  “No, you wouldn’t.  You were marvelous tonight.  Wasn’t she, Sherlock?”  He glared at Sherlock, willing him to be a gentleman for a change.  
   
Sherlock’s intense gaze shifted to Sarah, studying her for a moment.  John held his breath when Sherlock opened his mouth to speak.  “You did well tonight, Sarah, quite well.  Thank you.”  
   
She shook her head.  “I didn’t do—“  
   
“Don’t be foolish, of course you did.”  Sherlock was irritated now.  “You pointed out the completed portions of the coded message, something John and I had both overlooked.  And you were brave enough to take on that assassin at the theatre earlier.  Just because you were compromised at the end doesn’t invalidate what you accomplished.  If it did, John would never leave the house.”  
   
“Thank you.  Thanks for that.”  John put on an offended act, but deep down he was grateful.  No amount of compliments and platitudes from him could do as much as Sherlock’s bald statement of fact.  
   
The corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitched before he went back to staring out the window.

Sarah relaxed back into John’s embrace, and he let her, shallow enough to enjoy her warmth and the feel of her steady heartbeat.  It had been a crap date, especially for her, not used to this life the way John was.  But he could feel the zing of adrenaline in his blood that he always got after a successful case, which made him feel worse.  Sarah had almost gotten killed and part of him had enjoyed it.

So he was surprised when she reached up to kiss him.

He responded instantly to the soft press of her lips, the arm around her sliding up to support the back of her head.  Letting out a soft sigh, she opened her mouth beneath his, deepening the kiss.

He was aware of Sherlock’s presence next to them, but the adrenaline in his system had turned to something hotter and more urgent, and unless Sherlock protested loudly, John doubted he’d be able to stop.

Sarah seemed to feel the same.  With a low moan that ripped right through him, she shifted to straddle his thigh, her knee pressing against his rapidly hardening cock, her russet hair falling around his face.  He dug his fingers into the back of her neck, trapping her as he wrapped his other arm around her waist, fingers splaying over the small of her back.

When she pulled back, her eyes were dark, her lips flushed and devoid of lipstick.  “Thank you.”

He said the only thing he could think of.  “It was my pleasure.

When she reached out to caress Sherlock’s cheek, John held his breath.  “My dark knight.”

To John’s surprise, Sherlock didn’t flinch, only studied her with expectant eyes.

John wasn’t sure what it was Sherlock was waiting for, but he doubted it was for Sarah to kiss him as well.

Or maybe it was.

Sherlock didn’t pull away, didn’t close his eyes as Sarah slowly, almost hesitantly tasted his mouth.  For a long moment, John waited for Sherlock to push her away, cut her down.  When instead he cupped her head with those long fingers and slanted his head to deepen the kiss, John nearly groaned aloud.

Sarah rocked slowly against John’s thigh as her kiss with Sherlock intensified.  John knew he should have been bothered by this, but he wasn’t.  Instead he watched, fascinated.  Sherlock, who disdained everyone, who had no patience for the demands of the human body, was actually a talented kisser.  He took his time, his fingers weaving through the strands of her hair, teeth nipping along the edges of her mouth, tongue making calculated forays past her lips until Sarah whimpered.  Sherlock instantly pulled away.  In the shadows, John couldn’t tell if he was regretting what he’d done or was afraid he’d gone too far, but he seemed to relax when she stroked her fingers over his cheekbone.  She kissed him again briefly before turning back to John.  “Are you okay with this?”

He ran his thumb along her jaw.  “The more important question is, are you?”

In answer, she kissed him again.

Sherlock shifted, leaned forward to tap the driver on the shoulder.  “Change of plans.  Baker Street.  221, between Marylebone and Melcomb.”  When he sat back, he was closer, his leg pressed against John’s.  When John looked at him, Sherlock looked back, challenging him.

John answered the challenge.  Sherlock’s mouth was plush beneath his, firm but soft.  Sarah’s pleased gasp only added to the intimacy.  Sherlock didn’t flinch, didn’t resist, instead letting John lead.  John had meant it to be quick, aggressive, but he quickly lost himself in the slow, luxurious sensuality of the man.  When he pulled back finally, he was surprised to find his free hand tangled in Sherlock’s loose curls.  Sherlock wore a hint of a smile.  “So it really is all fine.”

“I told you it was.”

“What people say and what they mean aren’t always the same.”

John pressed a kiss to Sarah’s temple, still watching Sherlock.  “Watch this,” he said sotto voce to Sarah before saying more loudly, “What you’re saying, then, is you were wrong about me.”

“No.”  The corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitched, much as they had at the museum when John had called him on needing expert advice.

“Yes, you were.  You thought John Watson was talking out of his hat and you knew me so much better than I know myself.  Admit it.”

“Sarah.”  Sherlock didn’t look away from the road ahead.

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“Will you please kiss him and shut him up?”

She grinned.  “Why, it would be a pleasure.”

When she wrapped her arms around John’s neck and proceeded to do just that, John noticed only then did Sherlock’s eyes shift, watching the two of them.

John hooked his ankle around Sherlock’s, inviting him in.

Sherlock’s small smile was answer enough.


End file.
